Perpetual Hourglass
by Chocolate Confection
Summary: /Sweet Pair/ University entrance exams loom around the corner, and while time and people speed past Marui, one of them just won't let go.
1. Prologue

Phew... oh boy. Took me forever to get the courage to post this. I can't ever finish chapter fics, and... the characterization in this stinks. I found that Bunta is a lot harder to write than I thought he would be. I can't count how many times I cursed Konomi for giving him no screentime (for the anime or manga) while I wrote this. It's hard to work with his character when the only base he really gets is a snarky, arrogant ass. Well... don't shy away from criticizing this. Frankly, I really need it.

Anyways, this is dedicated to awin-chan and EmbeRin, who beta'd this, for their continued support and suggestions as I wrote this piece. What would I do without you guys?

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis or the characters. If I did, then Seigaku would've lost to Hyotei in the Regionals and Rikkai will win the Nationals, which I'm sure they won't in the actual story. -seethes-  
Pairing: Sweet Pair, BunJi, BuntaxJirou, whatever you want to call it.

* * *

**  
Perpetual Hourglass**  
_KatYoukai (Chocolate Confection)_  
-  
**_Prologue_**

If you had asked Marui Bunta where he might have imagined himself after high school, he would probably have said something along the lines of Professional Tennis Player. It was only fitting for the tensai he considered himself to be. But as it would be, things don't always turn out the way you expect, and more often than not, your own dreams will change and maybe fade with the passage of time. The Bunta in junior high would've laughed if he saw himself struggling to get past university entrance exams like any ordinary graduate now.

He had long since stopped playing tennis, at least on the wider scale. He still practiced and occasionally dropped by the local clubs or street courts, but it had been a long time since his days on the Rikkai team. After junior high, he had joined the high school tennis club alongside everyone else. Nothing had changed when they first entered the high school section. However, gradually, the difference made itself apparent.

Yukimura had been the only one of their year to make it into the Regulars that time. Looking back on it, Marui realized that he really should've expected it. After all, how often was it that a first year managed to make it that far, whether in junior high or high school? Echizen Ryoma's kind was rare and far between. Even so, it had been a hard blow to his – their – pride back then.

They worked hard nonetheless and proved themselves to be no ordinary freshmen. Earning the recognition of the team was no difficult feat. If they had continued along that path, they would've become Regulars by their third year if not by their second. That is, _if_ they had.

First had been Yagyuu, who dropped tennis in favour of joining the golf club in second year. Then, a little into the year, Sanada was offered the position of fukubuchou on the Kendo club, and after an encouraging word from Yukimura, he quit the tennis club to better focus on his new duties. Again, looking back on it, such things were a natural occurrence. Time changed all things, Marui remembered Yukimura saying to those of them that were left. But to the him back then, who still didn't quite understand, it felt like the world he knew was shattering.

Regardless of his feelings, time continued to pass, as unaffected as always, and just as Bunta was thinking that he was getting used to it all, it happened. The news was sudden and he had argued vehemently against it, getting himself into a fight with his parents. Despite the angry, frustrated words, and locking himself in his room, the decision was final and nothing he said could've changed it. And so it was that in the middle of his second year of high school, Marui Bunta found himself transferring to a better, more prestigious high school that offered a better education than Rikkai Daigaku Fuzokukou did. When he really thought about it, he would've liked to say that he'd known all along that those kinds of things happened, and had been prepared for it, but that would've been a lie. And even though he'd been able to lie to the others, he wasn't able to lie to himself.

-

Marui flipped idly through the newspaper, skimming over articles for anything remotely peaking his interest. There were none. Occasionally, he read about Yukimura, or Atobe, or that annoying Seigaku brat, from whom the tennis world expected 'great things'. Apparently.

He had fallen out of contact with his former buchou after transferring from Rikkai, so he hadn't heard of the other's success from Yukimura himself, but he hadn't expected anything less from him. Like with Yukimura, Bunta had found that without being able to see them on a daily basis at school, his relations with the old Regulars had slowly dissolved, most into nothing. He did, however, sporadically hear from Niou and Jackal.

Marui shook his head, tossing the paper aside. He didn't have time to dwell in the past, the first of Fuyumuki Daigaku's entrance exams were coming up. The university was notorious for being especially difficult to enter, but Marui was determined to pass the entrance exams with flying colours. It wasn't really a matter of brains, just studying. Yes, lots and lots of studying.

He found himself fumbling through his pockets, searching for a stick of bubblegum. Finding what he was looking for, he undid the wrapping, chucked it into the nearby waste bin and popped the gum into his mouth. Satisfied, Bunta flipped open the review book sitting in front of him.

-

The red-haired boy growled, slamming the text shut. It took every ounce of self-control in his body not to chuck the book across the room. He'd already tried that once and now his TV was broken. It was hard enough to gather up the amount needed to pay the rent for the small apartment, he couldn't afford repairs.

"On the bright side, if I fail the entrance exams, I can go back to mooching off my parents until they disown me." Previous confidence lost, Marui was fairly sure that was exactly what was going to happen now. Well, not entirely. He was still going to fail, but he'd be forced to stay in his current residence for experience's sake.

Fuyudai's entrance exam system consisted of three exams and the first one was in less than a week.

With a resigned sigh and a long swig of coffee – the six packets of sugar he'd dumped in there were really good for calming nerves. And making you twitchy, it was really good at that – he opened the textbook again, trying his best to absorb the information.

-

"Ah… crap…"

He winced as the exam supervisor shot him a glare. Yeah, yeah, quiet during the exam, he knew, he knew. But damn it if these questions made any sense at all…!

What the hell was a _misanthrope _anyways?

English, Marui decided, was a useless language. It sucked and if he failed the exam, he knew exactly what to blame.

-

Post-examination nerves, he discovered, were by far, worse than those before and during the exam. That was because then you could still make a difference. You could study till your brain stopped functioning prior to the exam and you could still change your answers while writing, but afterwards all you could do was pace around outside the examination building, waiting for the results and hoping for the best as you clawed your face off.

It would appear that he wasn't the only one thinking the same thing though as most of the examinees were also crowding around outside the building. A bit useless, actually, considering the exam had only just finished and the results would not be posted for another few days.

Marui contemplated returning home for a huge dosage of sugar. The large intake of sugar would cause a sugar rush and then he could forget about the exam somewhat. Of course, then it would wear off and his nerves would come crawling back, out to kill him. Also, he would be tired afterwards and unable to work properly tomorrow.

Luckily, before Marui could go and perform said actions, which would lead to him losing his job, a finger tapped his shoulder, bringing him out of that train of thought.

He turned, opening his mouth to ask what it was the person wanted. But as grey-violet eyes met shining amber ones, any words he had meant to say died before they could fall from his tongue. His mouth remained opened.

"…Marui? Marui Bunta?"


	2. Chapter 1

Hm... This chapter was slightly improved from the prologue. I'm still looking for a chance to further Jirou's personality... which of course I haven't had yet since most is still in Bunta's POV. I didn't reread this chapter as much as the prologue so there could be some errors or awkward areas. I think I moved things a little too fast... I really can't blame anything but my laziness, I should've rewritten some parts and given more time to perfect it. Besides that, nothing much else to say. Updates will probably be very slow now, school starts tomorrow.

Again, thanks goes out to awin-chan and EmbeRin for beta reading this. And thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, your reviews really help me keep writing!

Disclaimer: If I owned Prince of Tennis, the series would never have gotten this far. It probably would've been dropped and forgotten after the first volume. Maybe half a volume. So I think it's pretty safe to say that no, I don't own PoT.  
Pairing: Sweet Pair as main. There may be several other ones touched upon in future chapters.

* * *

**Perpetual Hourglass  
**_KatYoukai (Chocolate Confection)  
-_  
**_Chapter 1_**

It took several attempts before Marui was able to will his mouth to close, and even then the shock rendered him speechless. The young man standing before him didn't seem to notice, however.

"It _is_ Marui-kun, isn't it?" There was an excited, over-enthusiastic undertone to the words that Bunta recognized all too well. "_Sugoi!_ I can't believe I'm meeting up with you again here of all places! It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Finally finding his voice again, the redhead chuckled – a little weakly, much to his disgust – and said, "Yeah… it really has. You're that Hyoutei kid, aren't you? Jirou was it?"

Jirou nodded with utmost exuberance, "Akutagawa Jirou! We played once in the Newcomers Tournament when we were first-years. You had the most amazing moves!"

If Bunta had been expecting Jirou's copiousness to have diminished any in the years that had passed, he was dead wrong.

"Say, why don't we go grab a bite to eat, it'll be a good way to calm down after exams and catch up on things!" Marui wondered how they were supposed to 'catch up' on anything when they hadn't known each other very well in the first place. No… wait, Jirou probably knew plenty about Bunta, being the fan-boy stalker that he was or had been, but that was something the self-proclaimed tensai didn't want to dwell too much on.

"You like sweets don't you Marui-kun? I know this café which has the best cakes around," Jirou continued, paying no heed to Marui's silence, "It's not too far away, we could walk. My treat?"

Well… since he offered, Bunta was really in no position to decline. Besides, he _was _treating.

That and Jirou had just gone all puppy-eyed on him.

And although Marui liked to think it was because of the promise of cake, cake which would be paid for by another, which prompted him to agree, the truth was he just couldn't say no to the hopeful, expectant look on the lethargic boy's face.

A soon-to-be university student really shouldn't be able to do that.

-

The blond poked his cake with his fork again for what must've been the hundredth time in that half hour. Jirou was far too excited to eat and instead settled on babbling away about the key highlights of the past years of his life and the events of the day itself leading up to his chance meeting with his once-idol outside the examination building.

Marui on his part was quite surprised with the control the excitable boy had demonstrated thus far. He hadn't attempted to tackle Bunta at all on the way to the café and even the number of 'sugoi's numbered far less than they once had.

For the most part, Marui was pleased with this new development. He was used to dealing with fans, considering that the tennis club's Regulars were usually swamped with them, and being the tensai that he was, it was no wonder that he had more fans than the others did. Except for Yukimura. But Marui would never admit to that. Sanada had almost beaten him too, but Sanada was scary and violent, and so, his fan base suffered.

Of course there were exceptions. It was okay for fan-girls to be fawning over and touching him. That was to be expected. It was _not_ okay for a certain crazy fan-boy from Hyoutei to be jumping him as he was heading home from school and getting all touchy-feely with him. Because that was just creepy, and Marui did not appreciate being assaulted after practice at all. Not in the least.

And it was for that reason that Bunta had made it a point to walk home with either Niou or Akaya whenever he could and above all else, stay the _hell_ away from Hyoutei. That was the absolute most important rule of all.

Still, he couldn't help feeling just slightly vexed, and he had no idea why.

"Marui-kun…?"

Marui blinked, looking up at Jirou who was peering curiously at him from across the table. He'd been tapping his fork on his plate as he thought, having finished his own cake long ago. Marui noted that Jirou still hadn't touched his.

"Er… sorry. Got a little distracted. What was that?"

"I said: I heard you changed high schools in the middle of second year. I didn't see you around anymore." By 'around', Jirou probably meant the street alley near Rikkai grounds where the volatile boy had often ambushed him.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. It was an amazingly boring school too. I considered joining the tennis club there so I went and checked it out, but they really sucked so I decided against it."

Jirou laughed, his laughter reminding Marui of bells, "It was the same for me in high school. I joined anyway though, I mostly slept through practice anyways."

Bunta merely looked at him in confusion and Jirou explained.

"Hyoutei wasn't attached to a high school and university like Rikkai was so most of us – the Regulars I mean – got split up. The tennis club of the school I went to was pretty shabby in comparison, but it wasn't too bad because I had Gak-kun with me." Marui assumed he meant Mukahi.

Marui nodded in understanding. Changing schools could be pretty rough sometimes.

"Do you still play?" Jirou asked.

Marui paused a moment before replying, "A bit. Not as much as I used to. I'm pretty out of practice."

Jirou smiled cheerfully and was about to speak before he was cut off as Bunta's watch started to beep.

"Aw crap!" Marui cried as he checked the time, standing up so abruptly he almost toppled the chair and managed to shake the table. "Sorry, but, I really have to go. See you around?"

The blond pulled back, a little startled, nodding.

"Great. See ya!"

As the redhead hurried for the door, Jirou called after him,

"Marui-kun?"

Bunta slowed down.

"Yeah?"

"We should have a match sometime."

He considered the idea for a moment, before flashing a grin back at the other over his shoulder.

"Sure, I'd like that."

And then he was out the door.

-

Marui grumbled to himself as he sifted through the cupboards, looking for anything remotely similar to food. Something he could just shove into the microwave or something from a can would be nice. Maybe some instant noodles even. It was all fine as long as he didn't have to cook, because that might lead to yet another catastrophe. As if there weren't enough in his life as it was.

This was why most university students living away from home were so eager to return whenever given the chance. At home, the laundry was free, and the meals were edible.

After a fruitless search, the young man sighed with resignation and stretched, working the kinks out of his back.

"Work sucks," Marui stated to no one in particular.

Deciding that there really was no food to be found in the apartment, he walked out of the kitchen area and plopped himself down on an armchair only a few feet away, vowing to get some shopping done the next day. And maybe learn to cook. As delightful as instant noodles and canned soup were, it would still be nice to have a decent meal once in a while.

He really missed his mother's cooking. Friday night was sukiyaki night. He could just see his two younger brothers gorging themselves on succulent thinly cut slices of beef and scrabbling over the last shiitake mushroom, all the while joking about their poor, starving brother who had the culinary skill of a horse. Little bastards.

He would've continued calling his siblings inappropriate names if his cell phone had not chosen that opportune moment to start ringing. Getting up, Marui picked up his phone and flipped it open, raising his brows as he read the caller ID.

Akutagawa Jirou.

When had he given his number to the boy? And for that matter, when had Marui added him either?

Bunta took a moment to think about that while the phone in his hand continued to ring.

"…Oh, right. He asked for it on the way to the café."

Satisfied with that explanation, he put the cell to his ear and answered the call.

"Jirou."

"Marui-kun!"

"What is it?"

"Ah, well, I was just thi-- … Marui-kun, was that your stomach?"

"…"

Marui cursed his laughing brothers sitting at home enjoying their sukiyaki.

-

"Ehhh? You're living in an apartment by yourself? That's so awesome!"

"It can't be helped, I just live way too far away from the university. Even if I don't get in, it's supposedly a good experience so…" Marui laughed, "It's nothing really. It's just the cooking that gets annoying. And the rent, the rent is really annoying. But that's okay I guess since my parents are paying for the actual tuition."

"Mm…" Jirou nodded, still looking at Bunta with sparkles in his eyes.

Surprisingly, it would seem that Jirou's antics were actually pretty easy to get used to. The attention wasn't that bad, granted that there was no pouncing and such involved. Besides, it _was_ awfully nice of Jirou to treat him – for the second time that day – to yakiniku. Marui had meant to split the cost but the blond had politely declined. The redhead couldn't help but suspect an ulterior motive.

He placed a slice of beef carefully on the grill before glancing up at the other young man. Well, better to find out now then later.

"Is it really okay not to split the cost?" He asked in what he hoped was a sheepish manner. It was kind of hard to feel guilty when it was really all part of the other person's plot.

"It's fine," was all the reply he got as Jirou prodded a slab of mutton he'd just put on the grill, watching it sizzle. After a moment, he stopped, peering furtively at Bunta behind his bangs. "Although, if you want to make it up to me…"

And here it came.

"Since there's still two more exams coming up, following this one, and we'll be taking the same ones, I thought maybe… we could study together?"

Marui blinked. It wasn't an all-together bad idea. He did study much better with a partner, although, he wasn't quite sure if that went for Jirou. He didn't dislike the boy's company by all means, at least, not in small doses. But the long periods of time on end required for studying, Marui found just a bit questionable.

He opened his mouth to say that perhaps that wasn't the best idea but stopped when he met the other's eyes. And when he opened his mouth again to speak, he found the words falling from it not quite what he'd had in mind.

"Yeah, sure, that sounds good."

Bunta decided that he hated Jirou's puppy-eyes.

* * *

So, there it is! Love it, hate it, wish to bash me over the head with a blunt object on too many occasions? Let me know in a review! 


	3. Chapter 2

Guh. This is the last chapter I was holding back. I had the prologue and chapters one and two done before I posted this story... but now I have nothing left. What with school and all, I really can't say when the next update will be anymore... ; Sorry this took so long, I wanted to hold this out till I typed chapter 3 at least, but I never found the time.

Well this chapter started out fine and dandy. But then I started going into a daze. By the last section or so, I had absolutely no idea what I was typing Dx Awin-chan helped me straighten that portion out a bit... but I can't help but think she wasn't criticizing me as much as she could've xD (Ahem, Casie.)

One last note before proceeding... Ironically enough, right after I typed that author's note in a last chapter about "bashing me in the back of my head", 10 minutes later, I went and smashed the back of my head into the headboard of my bed. Then, I doubled over and swore for another minute. I still have a slight bump there actually. At least I didn't have a splitting headache anymore the next day. First morning of school. Would've been bad. Anyway, awin-chan and EmbeRin, my lovely beta's, thought it was hilarious. Then, so did liyenthel and JUSTHGG. It was pretty funny. That is, when your head doesn't feel like it's been split open.

Disclaimer: If I owned Prince of Tennis, the series would never have gotten this far. It probably would've been dropped and forgotten after the first volume. Maybe half a volume. So I think it's pretty safe to say that no, I don't own PoT.  
Pairing: Sweet Pair as main. There may be several other ones touched upon in future chapters.

* * *

**Perpetual Hourglass  
**_KatYoukai (Chocolate Confection)  
-_  
**_Chapter 2_**

A gust of wind swept through the park. Jirou shivered and pulled his coat closer to his body. It was already late fall, and as autumn wore into winter, it was getting chillier. Jirou didn't like the cold. He couldn't sleep when he was cold. He almost did once but was promptly shaken awake by a distressed Gakuto.

Normally, he wouldn't have had to walk to the exam building. Normally, he would have been sitting in his nice, warm, heated car. His parents usually drove him wherever he needed to go, but they were busy that day, and Jirou didn't want to come off as being spoiled. So, he walked.

The closest route to the building where the exam results were being posted from his house was through the park. The park also had a pond not so far from the path and that made the temperature slightly cooler. This would've bothered Jirou but it was just around that time in fall when most of the leaves had fallen, crisp and fresh. Perfect for stepping on. They made such gratifying crunches.

Jirou was right in the process of bringing his foot down on a particularly crunchy-looking leaf when he sneezed. The blond rubbed his nose and waited a few seconds. No more sneezes came. Well, it looked like he hadn't caught a cold. Not yet, at least. Maybe someone was talking about him.

-

"I can't believe it." Bunta said, reading over the result board again, just to check that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, "That Jirou kid beat me!"

Sure enough, both his and the drowsy blond's names were on the list of the examinees that had passed. Although the scores themselves weren't posted, the names were listed in order of the highest score at the top to the lowest at the bottom. Marui was somewhere around the middle, with Jirou five names above him. Damn.

As if on cue, a hand came to rest on his shoulder as a familiar voice asked, "Did you pass, Marui-kun?"

The redhead nodded, moving out of the way so the other could see.

"You did better than I did," he stated blandly.

"It was probably only by a few points," Jirou said, studying the list for a moment longer before turning to Bunta with a smile, "The important thing is you passed."

Marui gave him a look much like that of a child who'd just been told that Santa doesn't really exist.

-

Bunta sighed and took a long swig from his can of Fanta. It had been a while since he'd played such a good game of tennis. At least this was something he could still beat Jirou in. Even so, it had been a close one; he'd won 6-4. Both of them were pretty out of practice. Maybe they should practise more.

Jirou was sitting next to him on the bench, leaning back with a contented smile plastered on his face. A thin line of sweat trickled over his closed eyelids and Marui could've sworn he was asleep if he didn't know better. There was no way the blond could be sleeping with so much adrenaline running through his veins. Besides, he was breathing too fast to be sleeping.

It was Jirou who had insisted on visiting the local street courts after they'd checked their results. Having already agreed two days ago, Marui could hardly decline.

"You're still as great as ever, Marui-kun." Jirou's voice was softer than usual but held no less veneration.

"What can I say? That's a tensai for you." Bunta's arrogance was peaking again. It didn't hurt to have his ego stroked every once in a while though.

A moment of comfortable silence passed between them before Jirou spoke again.

"Say, you know that one question regarding double meanings in English? I don't think I answered it properly. There were a lot that confused me, actually. You wouldn't mind looking over those with me, would you? It might help both of us with the next exam!"

Marui gave the boy an incredulous look, "You did better than I did."

Marui-kun sure was one to hold grudges. Oh well, even a tensai like him had to have his faults.

"It was most likely only by a little, and you might've done better in some other areas. Besides, you promised, remember?"

Jirou flashed a grin that told Bunta that it didn't matter even if he said no. He had no say in the matter. The redhead grumbled and stood up, stretching. Chucking the now-empty Fanta can into a nearby trashcan, he turned back to Jirou.

"Alright, alright. We can walk to my place from here, it's not too far away. But before that, let's get something to eat first."

-

Marui's apartment was a one-room unit consisting of a corner that served as a kitchen, a bed, and what looked to be a portion of a living room. In the far left corner, there was a refrigerator and a stove with a built-in oven. The area was surrounded partially by a counter and several cupboards against the wall. To the right of the kitchenette was what looked like a portion from a living room cut and pasted into the apartment, furnished with a single armchair and a broken television – Jirou noted that it looked like something large and heavy had been thrown through the screen. Between them was a large window overlooking the city. It had a nice view. Besides the aforementioned items and a small circular table in the centre of the room, the only other pieces of furniture in the apartment were Bunta's bed, a neat little bookshelf, and a dresser, which took up the last available corner – the entrance was in the fourth. There was also another door not far from the entrance, which Jirou assumed was the washroom.

"Oi, do you want help with these questions or not?" Marui demanded as he dropped a pile of textbooks onto the table, and Jirou turned his attention back to the task at hand.

"Sorry." Jirou shifted into a more comfortable position, folding his legs beneath him. The table was low and designed for use from the floor. That way, there was no need to waste money on chairs, or so Bunta had explained. Jirou, however, was accustomed to the nice comfy chairs he had at home.

"Okay, let's start with this problem…"

-

Jirou was very good at getting distracted. They had only been studying for twenty minutes and he was already finding excuses not to work.

"Marui-kun, you don't have any food at all!"

He was also very good at making himself at home, Bunta decided as he watched the blond rummage through his cupboards.

"I was going to go buy some groceries yesterday, but I didn't have time."

"Then, what did you eat this morning?"

"Cup noodles."

Jirou looked at Marui as though he were insane.

"…What?"

"You can't eat junk like that for breakfast!"

Bunta figured that, to someone like Jirou, most of his usual meals were considered junk.

"You do realize that most normal people eat that _junk_ all the time, right?"

All he got in response was a disbelieving, incredulous look.

Giving up on finding anything edible in Marui's kitchen, the blond huffed and made his way back to the table, plopping down across from the redhead.

"So, why couldn't you go shopping yesterday?"

He just couldn't focus, could he?

"I had work. And then later, it was raining and my umbrella is broken."

"Work?"

"Yes. How else do you suppose I come up with the rent every month?" Marui asked dryly.

"Where?"

He hesitated a moment – a moment too long – before hurriedly replying, "None of your business." He tapped the open book in front of the other boy, "Instead of asking all these questions, try focusing on studying instead."

The blond did not seem satisfied by obliged nonetheless. A moment of silence passed and Marui allowed himself to think that the other was actually finally reading.

"Uhm… Marui-kun… er… why is your television broken?"

Bunta groaned. It was going to be a long afternoon.

-

"So, you passed the first exam, huh? I'm astounded."

"Oh shut up, would you?"

"Hmph." Marui could just see the smirk on Niou's face right about then. "…Is that snoring I hear?"

"Yeah. It's that sleepy Hyoutei guy, remember him?"

"What's he doing over there?"

"Well we were _supposed_ to be studying. That lasted for a grand total of about half an hour."

"Oh? …Well then, I wouldn't want to bother you then, would I?"

And before he could respond, the silver-haired trickster had hung up. Bunta scowled, deciding that he didn't like the tone in which Niou had said that last sentence, not at all.

Setting the phone back in place, he glanced over at the table where the boy in question had fallen asleep in the middle of reading through Japan's historical timeline. A tiny smile crept onto his lips. Shaking his head, Marui collected those of the abandoned textbooks that Jirou wasn't using as a pillow.

Really, with study habits like this, he had to wonder how Jirou had managed to score higher than him in the exam.

-

Marui pushed open the gilded door before him, a sense of foreboding flooding through his body. An all too familiar face greeted him behind it.

"You're late. Again."

Marui had once tried simply answering 'Yes, yes I am.' That had been a mistake. Suzuki-san had made him beg at her feet on the hazard of unemployment to the point where the phrase 'Kiss my ass' came to mind. That was after she blew his eardrums out, of course.

Bunta sometimes entertained the idea of doing it one more time, just to spite the temperamental manager. The idea usually surfaced when he was grumpy, low on sugar, or downright crazy. It was always quickly stomped out before he had the chance to act on it.

Instead, he replied, "I'm sorry, Suzuki-san. I'll come in early, next time."

"I'm sure you will," was the skeptical response.

Suzuki-san always made it a point to never take the word of her employees. It was with good reason too. Most of said workers were completely unreliable. Their only real merits were their looks. Marui had once asked about that. Apparently, Suzuki-san believed the key to running a successful café was the service – which in this case meant striking young men adorned in waiter outfits. He supposed that explained their large number of female patrons.

Suzuki heaved a sigh, "Well, I'll let it go this time. Now get your ass in that kitchen this instant."

She was always rather lenient, it seemed, despite her threats. Bunta only wished he'd known that before the begging incident.

He entered the kitchen to find one of his coworkers fussing over another's top. According to the painfully visible large, brown stain, he inferred that there had been some trouble with the coffee pot. Another man decked in the same attire as the others – sans the mess – came in and rolled his eyes at the drama unfolding before him. He lifted the long forgotten tray, which one of the others must have been intending to take outside, and held it out to Bunta.

"Here, kid, take this to table four."

Marui obliged, accepting the platter from his senpai and carrying it across the room. Upon reaching his destination, he placed his load on the table as elegantly as he could. The usual routine; he had it memorized.

"Sorry for the wait, here's your—"

"Well it _took_ you long enough."

Marui was about to snap back that he wasn't even the one who took the order in the first place but stopped as something in the back of his mind clicked. But what…

"Aren't you going t— " A startled pause, "Hey, aren't you…"

Wait a second. He _knew _that voice; that voice laced with arrogant overtones.

Bunta stared at the man sitting before him in equal disbelief matching that on the other's face.

"Atobe?"

And suddenly, it didn't seem so much like routine after all.


End file.
